


Windowsill

by polarising



Series: Character Study Fics: TWDG [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarising/pseuds/polarising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The windowsill in the first floor study becomes a haven for you and Ben. It's a place to just relax.</p><p>(it ain't even ben/reader or ben/oc just take it how u like)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windowsill

It had been a year since the start of the outbreak, and you had been up, down, on the brink of death, back from the brink of death, picked up, left alone, all around town.

You got in with a couple of groups but you didn't like their way of running things, so naturally, after taking some medicine and canned food and noting their scavenging schedules, you'd sneak away sometime during the night. You'd go back to the same sheltered fire escape and rest, leaving your sleeping bag there so you never had to show up to group bases weighted down, and then you'd gather remaining supplies from the city during the day. You knew Savannah like the back of your hand - every road, every alley, every route of escape.

Two things changed when you discovered a particular group of six wandering into the town one day: your one hundred percent biased opinion on group leadership, and the location of your sleeping bag.

\---

You should have been thankful that you didn't hurt yourself before falling in with your new crowd. They barely had enough medicine to care for their own.

You should have been thankful that they even let you in with them. Maybe they took pity on you because you're young and alone.

You should have been thankful that you got to say bye to your family.

\---

The next few days go by pretty quickly. All is well in your newfound group. No current obvious conflicts or anything, something of which was common with everyone else you've met. 

Kenny is probably the person with the most issues, having lost his wife and son the day he arrived in Savannah. You understand how tough that must be for him, having gone through a similar situation yourself. You try your hardest to be nice to him, no matter how douchey he can be at times.

Lee's a great guy. So is who you think is his daughter, Clementine. You haven't really asked about their relationship. You think it best not to pry.

Omid and Christa are alright, too. They're nice to you, even if Christa wasn't exactly accommodating at first. Omid makes you laugh, and you chalk up points for him being able to keep up such a cheery demeanour even in post-apocalyptic circumstances.

And then there's Ben. Something about him struck you as the "outsider" type, like he doesn't fit in too well with the group. Even though there's an even number he still seems singled out. 

He didn't make a conscious effort to talk to you at first, aside from the general "I'm not sure where the food is" or "could you help Clementine out while I go pee". And then, on your third day, he asked how you ended up here. You, in all honesty, were quite taken aback.

You told him your story on the windowsill of the first floor study over half a stale biscuit.

\---

You didn't know it at the time, but that windowsill would become a small haven for you. A place to go to clear your head. Ben often liked to join you.

Sometimes you'd talk about meaningful stuff, like whether you should pack extra bullets or a close-range weapon when going out. Other times you'd talk about things you did before...everything happened. You learned that he played in his high school band and was on his way to the football tournament when the outbreak began. He learned that you were simply walking to the grocery store when you noticed that the streets were eerily quiet, and that was when you had your first encounter with a walker.

You'd been in the group for just over a week and already you knew more facts about this boy than the rest of the survivors you'd previously met put together.

\---

It's on a Sunday, just after returning from scavenging, that he asks. You're sitting with Kenny in the main room, making small talk to pass the time while he sips at yet another bottle of whiskey.

"Hey, can we go upstairs?" Ben says to you, loud enough to be in earshot of the man opposite you.

"Don't y'dare get doin' nothin' that Clementine wouldn't be allowed to see," he slurs, casting you a distasteful look. You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice Ben's cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

"We don't, we just read the books in there," you say, choosing not to retaliate. "Honest. It's just a quiet, peaceful place up there, and that's pretty rare these days."

Kenny keeps his eyes fixed on you, and takes another swig. You take it as your cue to leave, and you and Ben head upstairs.

"So?" you say as you both sit down. "What's up?"

"I'm tired," he replies.

"Aren't we all."

"No, like, seriously tired. I just feel...empty. I wake up every morning still just as tired as when I went to sleep," he says, staring out of the window. You notice his eyes following walkers around the street.

"Hm." You don't know how to respond, and he gets it.

"You don't have to say anything special or whatever. It's fine. I'll be okay. I just needed to...start telling people things, that's all."

Disregarding the last statement, you say, "well, I knew people who've developed anxiety during all this. Maybe that's what's wrong."

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't know anything. If there was a pill, or a drink, or a- I don't know, a _something_ that could make you gain courage and help you to do things right, I'd take that in a heartbeat."

"You look like you're doing alright to me."

"No, I just- mm, doesn't matter. I won't burden you," he says dismissively. You both sit in silence for a few moments.

You don't know where to start with what he's said. It's all confusing to you, considering you were never a part of the original group. You don't know what he means by "start telling people things" or "do things right", and you're not sure if it's okay to ask.

He looks at you, and you avoid eye contact. After about three seconds you look at him anyway. "What?"

"You're wondering what I meant, aren't you."

"Maybe."

He opens his mouth again as if to speak, then closes it and pauses. "It's...kinda complicated. You wouldn't know anything, you weren't around back then. Just something stupid I did a while back."

"...Right. Okay. It doesn't matter." You lean back against the window frame. "You know, I'd sleep up here if I could."

"What do you mean, 'if you could'? You can. I wasn't aware there was a rule against sleeping in windows."

You laugh. "No, I mean now. Kenny, if not everyone, would get suspicious. Don't tell me they wouldn't."

"Why would they be suspicious?"

"Because we're both up here. At the same time."

"Oh. Right." More silence. "But _come on_. They wouldn't really-..."

You nod and smile, and then close your eyes and sigh.

\---

Kenny said that he gave it a week. He may have been drunk or sober, you don't know, but he still implied that he thought you and Ben were going to get together. As if you would. That would be the worst move. Everyone knows not to get too attached to people that you're gonna lose.

Not that you're not attached to Ben. You are, but like...platonically. He's a great friend. You hope he thinks you're a great friend too. 

\---

Food had to be rationed the day before the next scheduled scavenge. Ben's name is picked from the "fortune bowl" - dubbed as such by Omid, it was simply an old vase with all of the group's names on slips of paper inside - and you manage to hide your disappointment. You leave Ben to enjoy his tinned peaches and head upstairs to your windowsill to read in peace. To your surprise, he comes up minutes later.

"Hey," he says, carefully sitting opposite you as usual. "I brought these up."

"I can see that."

"You deserve some too." You're slightly taken aback. You _deserve_ some? What have you done to deserve some? "For being a good friend," he continues, as if reading your mind.

"Wow. Thanks. Really." He puts the bowl between you two and offers you the fork. You take it and eat a slice, savouring the sweetness while it lasts, and hand the fork back. He doesn't take it.

"You can have more than that, you know. I don't mind," he says.

"I don't want to take all your food, Ben. Your name was picked. I had just as much chance and you should get to eat your own winnings, don't you think?"

He ponders. "Yeah, but I _want_ you to have some. Honestly, take some more. Half each works, right?"

You eat another three slices quickly and make sure he takes the fork back this time. He finishes off what's left of the bowl and places it on the floor, then leans back against the frame and looks at you.

"...What?" you say cautiously.

"Nothing," he replies. "Just wondering what's going to happen at the end of this...thing."

"The apocalypse?"

"Yeah, that. Does everything just go back to normal, or...what?"

You pause. "I don't know," you reply honestly. He turns to look out of the window. You stretch out your foot and nudge him. He looks down at your foot, then at you. "What was that for?"

"No reason," you say, and do it again. He does it back and it turns into a two minute battle of reflexes. Finally you give up and he smiles at his small victory.

Actually, that's the first time you've seen him smile. He smiles with his teeth, like he's really really happy about beating you in a little war of nudging. You decide that this boy, this anxious, broken boy, needs protecting with all your life, and you think that you're willing to do that.

\---

The next day, you, Ben, Lee and Kenny set out to gather any more supplies from Savannah. You all decide on tackling a particular two-floor drugstore near the docks, and agree not to be too disappointed if it has already been looted by other survivors.

When you get there it's clear that someone has already tried there. Nevertheless, you retian hope and split up, wary of walkers. Your only weapon is a meat cleaver, and you begin to regret choosing that over a gun.

The drugstore is dark, so dark that you almost can't see where you're going, and that makes you even more nervous. You put your hood up.

Five minutes in and all you have is a box of paracetamol. It's not much, but at least it's something. You're headed towards the stairs when hands push your face and waist. You try to shake them off and cry out.

"Mmmmmf!" you growl, grabbing the hand on your face. Who was this, a bandit? Another scavenger getting rid of the competition?

You lurch backwards in an attempt to push your attacker against the wall. You succeed, and the hands move, and you hear a familiar cry.

"Ben, what the fuck?" you say, turning to face him. He's clutching his stomach where you pushed back into him.

"Ow- Jesus, that really hurt," he whimpers.

"You scared me! I thought I was gonna be murdered! Why did you do that?"

"Shh- shh, keep your voice down, please, _God_! There's other survivors in here aside from us. They have weapons. I thought you were one of them, with the hood and all..."

He has a fair point, but still, really? You're fucking _on edge_ now. It's shaken you, and he notices.

"Hey, I- I'm sorry. I just get panicky, and- and normally I can't do anything-...I'm sorry, alright?" He moves his hands away from his stomach. "That still really hurt."

"Sorry," you manage. "I freaked."

A shadowed figure stands behind the end of the shelf aisle two rows down, watching at first, and then sneaking away.

\---

Your group end up with five boxes of medicine and twelve food items in total. Not bad, but not great. Once you get back Kenny calls you aside. Ben watches and then makes himself scarce and goes up to the windowsill.

"I saw what you two were doin' back there. You gotta stop. You gotta stop getting attached. That poor son of a bitch is gonna die and you know it," Kenny says.

At first you're confused, but then you understand what he's talking about. "We weren't doing anything. There were other people looking for food in there, and Ben thought I was one and I thought he was one and...shit happened fast. He got hurt when I tried to get him off me."

"Didn't look that way to me. Looked like you two were...y'know, gettin' it up over there."

"What? No. Not at all."

"Good. Still not sure if I trust you entirely." He walks back towards the living area. "Don't let me down on this one."

\---

"What did Kenny have to say?" Ben asks as you sit down. You weigh up your options. Lie, dismiss,  half truth, or full truth?

"Nothing really," you say, slumping down. "He, uh, thought something was going on when you grabbed me. Like I said the other day, he got suspicious."

"Oh God. Oh, _God_. What does he think?" he says. "What if he tells the others about what he thinks?"

"Shh. Relax. Nothing's going on, so they have nothing to hold against us," you respond. "Although I have to say, with the amount of time we spend in this room it's a surprise nobody's said anything yet."

"Shut _up_!"

You laugh. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, don't worry." Then there's silence. When you have nothing to do all day and spend all your time in the company of the same few people, conversation quickly becomes very dull.

"Do you know about Lee?" Ben asks suddenly.

"...What do you mean?"

"Like, his past. If he hasn't told you yet...I guess I should. Although it's not really my story to tell." You look at him as if to tell him to keep going. "He was, um, on his way to jail before we formed a group."

"Oh. What for?"

"Murder. I don't know who. He told me less than the others. Kenny could tell you more but you might as well just go straight to Lee." He looks at the door. "Please don't, though. He'll be pissed that I told you."

"I won't. I don't really need to know any more though." You nudge his leg again, like you did two days ago. He doesn't reciprocate. "I mean, technically we're all murderers now. Especially if you have to...uh, put someone out of their misery."

"I hope I never have to do that. I don't have a problem with killing walkers, but a human, one of the group, even..."

" _Nobody_ wants to do that, Ben. Nobody."

He nudges you back.

\---

Lee asks you if you're happy in the group the next day.

"Yeah," you answer. "You guys are alright. I don't feel like I want to be a lone survivor rather than with you, so...that's a good thing."

"Good," he says. "You seem a lot happier than when we first met you. Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?"

"Ben? Partially. He's great to be around. Nice to have a friend, you know?" you reply. "Everyone seems to think there's something going on, actually, and there isn't. It's just nice to be with a group."

"Sure. I get that. He seems happier too. Less nervous," Lee admits. "Good to have someone his own age around. He has to be either an adult or a kid depending on the situation. He just thinks he's a liability."

"Yeah, he...mentioned something like that before. I wondered what he meant."

"He's fucked up before. I'm not gonna try and convince anyone that he didn't. But he blames himself for everything, and that in itself is the burden."

"Yeah." You have no choice but to agree, even though you're unsure about what he's talking about.

\---

You and Ben are both chosen from Omid's fortune bowl and you're more than excited to get to your windowsill and start eating. Ben has a bowl of soup and you have a chocolate energy bar. Together you have a (very small) two-course meal.

You share the portions out and demolish both the soup and the energy bar very quickly, and while you aren't even close to being full, you're satisfied.

"I'm so bored," Ben moans, leaning back.

"Well, there's books over there."

"When we were back at the Motor Inn - uh, you weren't with us then, it was an old motel where we stayed - I started reading through the bible in my nightstand drawer. We were there for three months so once I got through it there wasn't much else to do."

"There are at least fifty books over there, Ben, you're spoilt for choice," you laugh. "I didn't know you were religious, by the way."

"Yeah, ish. I read it mostly out of boredom. There's nothing in there that's going to help me, anyway," he sighs. "You know what would be great? Technology. I miss using computers and phones."

"Me too. I still have my phone but naturally, there's no signal or anything."

"Wait. You don't need a signal to play games."

"...Oh, yeah." Ben's face lights up like an excited puppy. "It's in my backpack. If you can find it you can have it."

He stands and leaves and you hear him walking around the rooms, searching for your backpack. He doesn't realise that you have it behind you, leaning on it. You grin as he comes back in.

"I can't find it," he starts, and then he spots it. He smiles a little too, and then sits back down.

"Don't you want the phone after all?" you say.

"I'm not gonna fight you for the backpack."

"What a gentleman."

He smiles at you, and then suddenly lurches forward and grabs the backpack. You yelp and then laugh.

"Thought you weren't gonna fight me for it," you say as you watch him rummage through it.

"Well, you didn't exactly put up much of a fight." He triumphantly pulls out a relatively old smartphone, and then looks at you. "It's dead."

"Shit. Guess you're not playing anything on there, then."

Dejected, he returns the phone to the bag and sets it aside. "Damn." He leans back again.

You take your chance. "So...when I was downstairs...Lee said something about you thinking you fuck up a lot. Is that...what you were talking about before?"

"He really told you that? Great. So they're all talking about my fuckups behind my back now."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Yes, it was." He puts his head in his hands, and you can't help but feel sorry for him.

"Hey, Lee only said that because I asked. I'm sure they're not _actively_ talking about you."

"You _asked_ about my mistakes? Wow, thank you."

"No, I didn't- Lee and I were just talking about you. About how you're happier now that there's someone else your own age. He just went off on one." He doesn't answer, so you shuffle forward. "Hey. Ben."

You hear him sigh. And then, in a small voice, "I just want to be useful. Nobody thinks I'm useful."

You shuffle forward again and this time outstretch your arms and tug lightly on his sleeves. "Give me a hug."

He doesn't move.

\---

Ben's still pretty upset in the following days. He doesn't come up to the windowsill. You sit there and read some of the books, although _Great Expectations_ can't really replace his company.

\---

After three days, he comes up and sits opposite you just as you're about to drop off.

"I'm sorry" are the first words out of his mouth.

"It's alright," you say, managing a small, sleepy smile. "Everyone gets upset. It's normal."

"I had no reason to get that upset. I'm sorry that I haven't really spoken."

"You had a perfectly good reason. It's okay. You don't have to apologise."

"I do though. I made things awkward, and I'm sorry." "It's fine, honest." "I just...it gets hard, you know? You stop trusting everyone. It-...never mind." He leans forward. "How about that hug?"

\---

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't proofread it's 5.51am and i'm choosing to post this now bye


End file.
